Night Talk

by Rebecca Daniels

  "But, Jake, I've been listening to the weather reports coming over the radio. This isn't expected to lift until sometime tomorrow. You can't stay out there."

  "I'll be all right. I'm inside the truck." He switched the walkie-talkie to the other hand and warmed the cold one. "Do you think you can handle the broadcast on your own tonight?"

  "I'm not worried about that," she insisted. "I'm worried about you being out there all night. You'll freeze."

  I'm worried about you. Under normal circumstances he probably wouldn't have even thought about those words too much, but sitting there alone in the rain and the mud, they sounded warm and familiar and caring.

  "I can start up the truck if it gets cold," he said, reminding himself to keep his imagination in check.

  "But you're going to be stuck out there all night. You don't have anything to eat."

  Jake didn't relish the thought of spending the night out here either. It promised to be cold, wet and thoroughly miserable. But at the moment, it couldn't be helped. There was gas in the truck, and eventually his coat would dry, so things really could have been a lot worse given the circumstances.

  "I won't starve," he assured her. "And I'll start back just as soon as there is a break in the weather."

  "Maybe I should call Claybe."

  "No, no, I'll be okay—honestly. Just keep the radio with you and say hi once in a while."

  "I will."

  He had thought she'd clicked off, so when he heard her voice again, he was surprised.

  "Jake?"

  "Yes?" There was such a long pause, he thought for a moment she wasn't going to answer.

  "You're not hurt, are you?"

  "I'm muddy—other than that, I'm fine."

  "Okay. Talk to you later?"

  "I'll be here."

  He reached down and turned off the truck engine, not because he was warm but because he had to be careful. It wasn't even three in the afternoon and it was going to get a lot colder and a lot more uncomfortable before the day was through. He would need to conserve what resources he could.

  Settling back against the seat, he grabbed his jacket and pulled the dry side over the top of him. Staring out the window, he watched the rain as it splattered against the windshield. The storm was a bad one but he'd been through bad ones before. There would be the usual wash-out slides, and once he got the truck out of this ditch, he would need to go and check on any danger spots.

  It hadn't taken long for the warmth generated by the heater to disappear completely. The interior of the cab became an ice cube—cold and wet. But the hours of digging had exhausted him and the cold didn't seem to bother him as much. He folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes.

  He must have drifted off to sleep, even though he had no memory of having become drowsy, because when he opened his eyes again the sky had grown darker and more menacing. He also realized he was shivering again.

  He sat up with the intention of starting the engine and turning on the heat again, but as he started to reach for the key, something caught his attention, something that had him stopping abruptly.

  The rain on the windshield made the image blurry and distorted, but he could still recognize the sight in front of him—he just couldn't believe it. There, coming down the road toward him, were two headlights.

  Chapter 10

  "No," he said, bolting upright. "It can't be."

  But it was. As the lights drew closer, he recognized them as those of his SUV—and Kristin was behind the wheel.

  He was stunned—so stunned, in fact, he couldn't move for a moment. His mind simply refused to compute what his eyes were seeing. Surely he was hallucinating or dreaming or something. It was simply impossible that she was there. He had resigned himself to a long and unpleasant night alone in the truck, but this…this didn't make sense.

  He fumbled into his jacket and reached for the door handle. Within moments of stepping out of the truck, he was drenched. The rain beat against his face, making it difficult to see and making the whole scene before him even more surreal.

  He stalked through the mud to the driver's side of the Jeep, yanking the door open. The closer he got, the more real everything felt and the more furious he became.

  Somewhere in his brain it registered that she'd been smiling when he yanked open the door, but he'd been too infuriated to consciously notice.

  "Move over," he ordered her, shouting above the howl of the wind and rain.

  "But I can dr—"

  "I said move over!" he shouted again, cutting her off.

  She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then unbuckled the seatbelt and climbed over the console into the passenger seat.

  He stepped up into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  "You were stuck. You needed help."

  "I was fine," he insisted, shoving the gearshift into the reverse position.

  "I thought I could help," she shouted back, her chest rising and falling with angry breaths.

  "You thought? You thought?" He shook his head. "No, you didn't think at all."

  "Jake—"

  "You could have killed yourself," he pointed out, cutting her off again. "How much help would you have been to me then?"

  She stared at him, the fury in her eyes cutting through him like a hot knife through butter. He thought for a moment she was going to scream or hit him. But then suddenly she stopped and he watched as the anger and emotion disappeared from her expression. Folding her arms across her chest, she sat back against the seat.

  "Fine," she said in a cool voice. "My mistake. I'm sorry."

  He shivered, but it had nothing to do with the wind and rain. He was furious with her, but there was something about watching that curtain drop down over her emotions that made him want to smash something. How could she do that? How could she just turn her emotions on and off like that? Did nothing matter to her? Were feelings just something she talked about on her radio show?

  "You could have gotten hurt or—"

  "No, you're right," she said, stopping him with a raised hand. "I shouldn't have come. It won't happen again."

  He stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out a way to let go of his anger, a way to vent his fury that didn't involve putting his fist through the windshield. Or kissing her senseless. Finally, he settled for brutalizing the steering wheel, grabbing it with a stranglehold while he edged the SUV around and headed back up the mountain.

  He looked at her, but she wouldn't look at him, and he felt the rage in him smolder and burn. One way or another he was going to have it out with her, but this wasn't the time or the place. Somehow, someway, he had to find a way to concentrate on the road ahead and not on the woman beside him. But he wasn't going to let this go. He wasn't going to take the cold shoulder this time. It wasn't over—not by a long shot.

  * * *

  Kristin saw the lights of Eagle's Eye just ahead and breathed a silent sigh of relief. It had taken well over an hour to make the trip back to the station and it was rapidly growing dark. Only, it hadn't been the storm or the harrowing mountain road that had made her anxious for the trek to end. She didn't want to spend another minute in the cab with Jake. The silence between them had gone far beyond awkward, beyond the outside edges of uncomfortable, and had reached the realm of painful.

  Maybe striking out on her own had been a stupid thing to do. Maybe it had been foolish and dangerous—but her intentions had been good. Couldn't he have at least acknowledged that? She had only been thinking of him, only trying to help him out of what she had thought was an unacceptable situation. She wouldn't have done it if she hadn't cared.

  But he hadn't wanted her caring, he hadn't wanted anything from her, and he'd made that very clear in the most embarrassing and humiliating way that he could. All she wanted right now was to get back to Eagle's Eye, back to her room and away from him as fast as she could.

  Her mind was made up. Once the weather cleared, she was calling Ted and telling
him to come get her. It didn't matter if the stalker was on the loose or not—she wasn't going to stay where she wasn't wanted any longer.

  It was her own fault. She should have seen this coming a mile off and yet she'd ignored all the warning signs. Once again she'd shown someone she cared, only to regret it later. When was she going to learn?

  As Jake brought the Jeep into the driveway and to a stop, Kristin reached up and unsnapped her seat belt. All she wanted was to get out of the truck and into her room without having to talk to him or even look at him again.

  "Kristin—"

  But she opened the door and stepped out into the rain before he could go any further. She wasn't in the mood to listen, wasn't in the mood to do anything but get away from him.

  She was across the driveway and almost to the steps before he caught up to her.

  "We have to talk," he said, catching her by the arm and spinning her around until she faced him.

  "We have nothing to talk about," she insisted, trying without success to break free of his hold.

  "You're wrong," he maintained, his hold on her arm remaining firm. "One way or another we're going to talk. We can go inside where it's dry or we'll do it right here. Your choice."

  She was ready to put up an argument, ready to stubbornly refuse to let him order her around, but there was something in his expression, something she'd never seen before that told her he would brook no resistance. She stood for a moment longer. The rain was drenching them both, but it gave her a sense of satisfaction watching it pour down on him. Then she turned and stalked across the driveway toward the tower. If he insisted on talking, they'd talk, but they'd do it in the tower. That way she could turn around and leave when she wanted. He could rant and rave all he wanted, it didn't matter any longer. She was in control now and wasn't about to allow him to get to her again.

  He refused to let go of her arm, so she rushed across the driveway with it hanging stiffly at her side. He followed her across the soggy gravel and up the stone steps. When he reached for the door, his hold loosened enough for her to pull free. But stepping onto the porch, he reached for her again, catching hold and spinning her to him.

  "Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"

  "That's your opinion, not mine," she pointed out coolly, pushing her wet hair back from her face.

  "It's not just my opinion," he shouted, taking a step closer. "It's a fact. Anything could have happened out there."

  "Something did happen," she said. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest but she struggled to keep tight control on her every reaction. "You turned into a jerk." She pulled out of his hold and turned around. "Or maybe you were always a jerk and just couldn't hide it any longer." She turned back around to face him. "I haven't decided which."

  "Kristin, my God, do you have any idea how dangerous your driving out there was?" he asked, taking a step forward. His saturated jacket was making a pool at his feet.

  "I have an idea," she told him in a deliberate voice. "I was out there, remember?"

  The drops of water that clung to the tips of his hair flew in all directions with every move he made. "I realize you thought you were helping."

  Her gaze narrowed. "I seem to recall you saying something about me not being capable of thinking."

  "I didn't say that."

  "No? That's what I heard."

  "Well, you heard wrong. I was merely pointing out that if you had thought this out, you would have realized just how foolish it was."

  "So now I'm a fool." She could feel her heart beating faster and folded her arms across her chest in an effort to maintain control. "This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

  His hands balled into fists. "Stop putting words in my mouth."

  She arched an eyebrow, giving him a deliberate look. "Someone has to. You apparently don't listen to what you're saying."

  His fists squeezed tight and his lips narrowed to a tiny sliver. "How do you do that?"

  "Do what?" she demanded, her breath coming in short gasps. "What am I doing?"

  He tore off his jacket and dropped it to the floor. "Just stand there. Is there nothing inside you, lady?" He reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. "Is that blood in there, or ice water?"

  "What are you talking about?" She snatched her arm away and took a step back.

  He swiped a hand through his wet hair and gave his head a shake. "Forget it, just…forget it. I don't understand what you thought you would accomplish taking that kind of chance with your safety."

  "Gosh, Jake, I don't know," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. She could feel the hold on her anger slipping, but at the moment she didn't care. "I guess I was thinking about how much fun it would be to just hop into the old SUV and go. I've got to tell you, I couldn't wait to get out there in the middle of this rainstorm from hell so that you could insult me. I mean, what about that don't you get?"

  "I didn't insult you," he insisted, taking a step closer.

  "Oh no?" She could hear her voice getting louder, but it was like a dam breaking. The flow had begun and she was helpless to stop it. "You called me stupid. I'm sorry, did I misunderstand? Was I supposed to interpret that as a compliment?"

  "I didn't call you stupid."

  "Yes, you did."

  "I said it was a stupid thing to do."

  "Well, my goodness, Jake, I'm sorry. I mean, please, let me apologize for doing such a stupid thing."

  "You don't know how to drive those roads, don't know how to handle a vehicle in those kinds of conditions."

  There was something in his eyes, something in his manner or attitude she found arrogant and condescending. She wasn't a child, for heaven's sake. It wasn't as though she hadn't weighed the consequences.

  "What the hell are you talking about?" She should have stopped right there and walked out. Only, something had snapped, something deep in her belly, and she suddenly felt free and empowered and wonderful. He looked so ridiculous standing there like a drowned rat and she was so angry she didn't have time to think about controls and precautions. "What would you know about what I can and cannot do? For your information, I am a very good driver and I handled that Jeep just fine."

  "You were lucky," he roared, glaring down at her.

  "I was capable!" she shouted back, hands on her hips. "And if that threatens that overinflated male ego of yours I suggest you get over it."

  "Overinflated ego, what are you talking—"

  "But you know what, Jake," she continued, ignoring the interruption. "You are right about one thing. It was a stupid thing to do—I can see that now. I mean, here I was sitting in this warm, dry tower, worrying about you spending the night out there in the rain, thinking that maybe you were cold and uncomfortable, that maybe you were hungry or hurt." She laughed, but there was nothing resembling humor in the sound. "You are absolutely right, that really was stupid. What was I thinking?" She stalked toward him. "And you know what else? I never should have done it. I should have left you out there to freeze, you big dumb idiot."

  She had been so full of emotion, so intent on getting out all the pent-up anger, she hadn't really been thinking about what kind of reaction to expect from him, and for a moment he didn't do anything. He just stood there, staring down at her. He had been furious with her and she'd been able to see it in his dark eyes and the rigid set of his forehead and jaw. But now his entire expression had changed and she had no idea what he was feeling. She wasn't sure if she should stay and stand her ground, or maybe start heading for the door.

  But then the most amazing thing happened. Suddenly he was coming toward her, reaching for her, pulling her close. She probably would have struggled if she'd thought to, but there was something in the way he was looking at her, something that had everything within her coming alive and making it difficult to think at all.

  "I could have lost you," he growled, pulling her into him. "I could have lost you."

  His words made their way into her heart and burst through her system like fireworks
on the Fourth of July. She forgot about being angry, forgot about being careful and staying in control. She'd been careful for too long. Her world was tilting, spinning, moving faster than the speed of light, out of control. Suddenly she understood there were some things worth suffering for—and in that moment she knew Jake Hayes was one of them.

  * * *

  Jake had been angry when he'd spotted her behind the wheel of his SUV but that was nothing compared to the rage he'd felt when she so coolly and so completely dismissed his anger. And the fact that she wouldn't talk to him had only fueled his rage. It was a good thing she had agreed to come into the tower to talk with him, because he'd been prepared to drag her in if she hadn't. He had followed her inside, prepared to keep her there until they'd gotten a few things straight. One way or another she was going to answer him, he was not going to let her dismiss him again.

  Only, once they'd gotten inside, everything seemed to change. She had started out with that shield around her—that damn frosty, detached shield that seemed impenetrable. But then, amazingly, the more she talked, the more emotional she became and the more emotional she became, the angrier she got.

  He could hardly believe what he was seeing. Something had finally broken through the layers of indifference, had pierced the shield she hid behind and found the heart of the woman underneath—and it was incredible.

  For a moment all he could do was stand there and stare. He didn't care what she was saying, didn't care if she was angry at him or even if she hated him. It was enough that she felt something for him—anything!

  He didn't remember actually reaching out to her, didn't remember consciously pulling her into his arms. It was enough that she was there, that he could touch her and feel her and know she was safe.

  "I could have lost you out there," he murmured again, only this time against her lips. "I could have lost you."

  "Jake—"

  But whatever else she had meant to say was lost with the onslaught of his mouth on hers.